


An old friend (Sherlock Holmes)

by Sherelle



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M, Love, M/M, Multi, Sheride, Sherlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherelle/pseuds/Sherelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was August 20th, Adelaide Middleton was holding the newspaper while she was standing infront 221B Baker Street. Her old friend lives behind those doors.<br/>What'll Sherlock do when he meets his old, female, friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The meet-up

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever!  
> If you have any tips/notes, feel free to share!  
> I hope you all enjoy.

'Sherlock Holmes strikes again’

'Mystery solved by the great Sherlock Holmes’

I was holding the newspaper while I looked at the dark blue door. 221B Baker Street, it was all in the news papers. My old friend, who I haven’t spoke for 20 years, is living behind those old doors. I gathered all my courage and knocked on the door. An old lady, dressed in an awful purple dress, opened the door. _Wrong address? No it can’t be. This has to be it._ She was too old to be Miss Holmes. I spoke: ‘Good morning Miss, I’m looking for Sherlock Holmes’ she interrupted me ‘Oh yes dear, he lives upstairs. First door to the right. I’ll follow in a minute with some tea’. I smiled gently ‘Thank you’. My legs felt numb. I was a nervous wreck. _Shall he recognize me? No, not possible we were little kids._ I took the stairs, one stap at a time. I was halfway when I heard footsteps. Before I was prepared I was facing Sherlock, dressed in a long black coat and a blue scarf. His long legs stopped at the top of the stairs. He stood there, frozen--just like me, observing every inch of my body. Behind him a little man with gray hair raised his voice ‚Sherlock, what’s wrong?’. I looked my old friend right in the eye when he suddenly started to run down the stairs. Within seconds he was in front of me, only a few centimeters removed from my face. His eyes were big and his face was a big question mark. ‘New client?’ the man asked. I finally managed to get some words out of my throat ‘long time no see, Sherlock’. He nodded and before I knew what he was doing he pulled me against his body. I felt his heartbeat rising. I felt his body heat and I smelled a light touch of deodorant. His shoulders were moving in a unnatural rhythm. _Was he crying?_ At that exact moment I felt tears running over my shoulder. I had seen Sherlock crying once before.

When we were discovering the London streets we found between the bins a little dog. The poor thing was starving. We took him to Sherlock his place and tried to save him, and succeed. We named him Redbeard and took him for a walk every morning before class. One day, we were walking our usual round with Redbeard, when he suddenly ran off. We searched for hours but we couldn’t find him. When we returned home, Sherlock and I were both crying. Redbeard was gone. We thought we never would see him again. The next day he found Redbeard sleeping on the porch. We were indescribably happy.

Now, a crying Sherlock was hugging me. I have no knowledge of humanity and feelings, they sometimes call me a sociopath and a bit socially awkward. Sherlock was my only friend back then. We understood each other, even without speaking. I folded my arms around his back and tried to gently rub my hands over his back. ‘Hush, hush’ I whispered, I couldn’t think about something less stupid to say. He pulled back and held my head in his big hands, they were shaking. ‘Adelaide.. is that you?’ his voice had a high pitch. ‘The one and only’ I managed to say. My family moved to Dublin after Redbeard his dead, I was forced to go with them. After that I never had seen Sherlock nor London again. Now, a perfectly grown up man stood in front of my with tears running down his sharp cheekbones. He tried to smile. ‘You..’ he obviously was searching for the right word to say ‘look great’. ‘You to, it’s lovely to finally see you again, after all those years. If I’m right 20 years, am I?’. His curls danced when he shook his head ‘19 years, 10 months and 11 days to be precisely’. I laughed ‘and yet nothing changed’. The man, who was still standing on the top of the stairs cleared his throat and looked at me. ‘Oh of course how rude!’ cried I while I was trying to move towards him but Sherlock immediately grabbed my hand. ‘--Oh uh’ I was still standing on the stairs. ‘Well, Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Adelaide Middleton, old friend of Sherlock you may noticed already’. He looked confused but nodded. I followed his eyes and saw that he was staring at Sherlock’s hand, which was holding mine. ‘John Watson, pleasure to meet you’ he said. I looked at his hand and saw a shiny wedding ring. My heart jumped. Were they together? I turned to Sherlock, observing his hands while I was trying to break the silence. No signs of a wedding ring. ‘Are you two inviting me in or are we going to stand here for the rest of the day?’ They both nodded and Sherlock managed to take lead, still holding my hand. I carefully walked up the stairs. They both contained silence.

Their room was dusty and dark. I moved myself to the couch and John took place in a big chair, possibly what he always does. Sherlock stood in the middle of the room. Eventually he sat down next to me, just leaving enough space between the both of us so we wouldn’t touch each other. ‘So, John Watson. I assume you’re married recently, who’s the lucky one’ they both looked at me like I said something extraordinary. ‘If I may ask’. ‘How can you tell?’ his voice was deep and manly. ‘Well your ring seems new. When Sherlock and I were kids we played deduction very often. London is a great place with a lot of strangers’. Sherlock’s face turned into a grimace. Good, he remembers. ‘Her name is Mary, Mary Watson’. ‘What a lovely name’ I answered. Sherlock grabbed my hand again. His hands were cold. ‘I missed you’ said he softly. Obviously he isn’t a ‘describe your feelings person’ either. I blushed. ‘Same’. We looked like teens, sitting there on the couch holding hands. The old lady entered the room with tea, as said. ‘Sherlock are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?’. He turned red. I tried to explain. ‘We’re not..’ she interrupted me, again. ‘Here you go, some tea with biscuits and John my phone isn’t working can you give it a look if you’ve time my dear?’. He pushed himself out of his chair. ‚Sure miss Hudson, right away’. They walked out together leaving us alone. We sat there, in silence. I couldn’t think of anything to say, neither did Sherlock. His hand was getting warm, I moved my fingers a bit and Sherlock squeezed hard. ‘I’m not gonna let go’ I smiled. He looked like a 12 year old boy, afraid of letting go. ‚Where do you stay?’ he asked. ‚At an old hotel, 20 minutes removed from here. It’s nice, they have great food’. ‘Are you staying here long, in London?’ his questions sounded more like a examination. ‘Maybe’. He nodded. ‘How are your parents?’. I sighed ‘they still live in Dublin. They’re both doing good’. We chitchatted some more until John returned. ‘Lestrade called, murder’. Sherlock jumped off the couch, grabbed his coat and scarf. He was walking towards the door when he realized I was still sitting on the couch. ‘Aren’t you coming with us?’ he made it sound like I was supposed to. ‘I’ll’ I stood up and walked with them, down the stairs and through the door, where I stood a couple minutes ago. John stopped a taxi. We entered and drove off. John started listing what the fellow ‘Lestrade’ told him through the phone. Sherlock was listening carefully and asked a few questions now and than. ‚The game is on, again’ he said eventually.


	2. Her first crime scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock takes Adelaide to a crime scene, she's definitely not used to the view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked the first chapter!

The cab pulled over at Sint James Square. Police cars filled the sight. A grey, tall, handsome man walked towards us. He began to list some facts and took us to the body. It lay there, in the middle of Sint James Square, motionless like a leaven cocoon. There was awful much blood around the body. I grabbed Sherlocks arm in fear to faint. He looked disturbed but his look softened when he saw it was me. ‘You okay?’. I tried to nod. ‘I’m not used to this like you are’. He held out his hand ‘John, will look after her please?’. ‘Sure I’ll’. He took my arm. ‘I’ll finish this as fast as possible’. John and I walked away from the crime scene. ‘Are you used to this, seeing dead people?’ I asked with disbelieve. ‘I was a soldier in Afghanistan, I saw a lot of terrible things there’. ‘Afghanistan, can’t imagine how hard it had to be there’ I answered. ‘I turned off my emotions, I had some terrible days though. It haunts me in my sleep but I can’t complain, the most of my friends didn’t make it back’. I created big respect for this fellow. ‘How did you met Sherlock, he wasn’t in Afghanistan right?’. ‘No he wasn’t’, he giggled a bit, ’I was looking for a flat mate, the hotel were I stayed got too expensive. A friend of mine introduced me to Sherlock and that’s how it basically started. I’ve been told he’s a hard man to life with but actually he has a big heart, don’t tell him’. He winked. ‘How about you, how did you met him?’. I took a huge breath. ‘Our parents knew each other so we got in touch. We were little kids both not good in making friends but what’s however, we were best friends in no time. My parents decided to move to Dublin, which separated us’. John’s blue eyes looked right in mine. ‘He seems to really care about you, after all those years’. I smiled ‘I still care for him, so it goes both ways’. I felt a big hand on my shoulder, probably Sherlock’s. ‘I’m done here, shall we go?’. 'So fast?' I asked in disbelieve, but he didn't answer. Sherlock looked worried. John noticed. ‘What’s wrong?’. Sherlock looked at him ‘Moriarty’. John’s looked shocked. I didn’t get it. _Moriarty? It didn’t sound good._ ‘What’s a Moriarty’ I asked, feeling incredibly stupid. Sherlock’s mouth corner raised a bit. ‘He is…well you can describe him as a spider, he knows everything about anything’. Just like you, I thought. All was said by that, Sherlock started walking towards the road and held up his arm. A taxi stopped. We followed. In no time we were back in his apartment. Sherlock took place at his chair and folded with his hands underneath his chin. He didn’t say a thing for 5 hours straight. John and I cleaned a bit and talked. He showed me his blog and he told stories about their adventures. It was getting late. ‘I’ve to return to my hotel’ I said. However, I didn’t want to, I liked spending time with John and Sherlock. Sherlock didn’t answer. I gave John a hug and promised to visit sometime soon. I walked over to Sherlock and kneeled down. ‘I’m glad we met again’. I didn’t know what else to say more. I gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. ‘Thanks for today’ and with those words I turned around and made my way to the door.  I looked back once and I saw that Sherlock had a red blush on his high cheeks. I smiled and walked away. I took the first cab to my hotel. During the ride my phone rang.

 

_Come tomorrow 9.00 Baker Street_

_-SH_

Directly followed by:

 

_Please_

_-SH_

I smiled. I’d love to spend more time with my old friend. My tummy felt heavy, I probably had to eat. I replied short:

 

_Will be there_

_x._


	3. Days on counting

‘Good morning miss Hudson, you look lovely today’ said I while I was moving towards the stairs. I was a bit late to be precisely; 7 minutes and 20 seconds.

‘Good to see you again dear’ she replied. I smiled and made my way up the stairs. I entered the living room, but nobody was there. ‘Sherlock, John?’, no reply. _Maybe they were already gone?_ I decided to wait for them. I made myself comfortable on the couch and looked around. The apartment was old, 2 big chairs filled almost the whole living room, behind the chairs stood an enormous bookshelf with over a 100 books. I stood up, walked to the bookshelf and looked at the books. Most of them were old, probably older than I am. My eye caught a small, leather bounded book it looked like a small journal. I took it off the shelf and opened it. It contained notes of crime scenes. I looked it trough and decided to read for a bit. I walked back to the couch and started. Every page was full of Sherlock his thoughts, which were.. brilliant. Time passed by quickly. Every case, every detail, everything was in that little journal. He wrote it down so precisely that it seemed I almost was there myself. Suddenly I heard the sleepy voice of Sherlock ‘what are you doing here?’. I looked up from the journal and Sherlock stood in front of me, only wearing pajama trousers. He had some blonde chest hair. I blushed. _God he looked sexy._ His hair was messy and he rubbed his eyes. ‘I—uh, you asked me to come. 9 o’clock’. He looked at me and squeezed his eyes. ‘I’ll return in a minute, in the mean time…make yourself comfortable’ his voice was cracky. I nodded. He disappeared in his bedroom. I walked to the kitchen and made some tea.

I turned around and I saw John, luckly well dressed. He looked tired, just like Sherlock. ‘Good morning’ he said. I smiled. ‘Do you both had a long night?’. He nodded. ‘You can say so, may I?’ grabbing the tea pot off the kitchen blade. ‘Ofcourse, how’s Mary?’. ‘Mmm’ he mumbled ‘we had our first fight tonight, I came home around midnight, which she didn’t appreciated’. I nodded and said ‘I wouldn’t be much pleased either, woman…’. I showed John the little journal I was reading, which he didn’t see it before. We heard the bedroom door and Sherlock appeared, he was wearing a purple shirt and black trousers. I handed him some tea. ‘Thank you’ muttered he. ‘I was reading your crime scene journal, hope you don’t mind, it’s very interesting’. ‘Thank you’ said he again. His stomach rumbled. I was pretty hungry too. ‘Come, let’s have some breakfast at Speedy’s’. They finished their tea and we walked downstairs, Sherlock babbled about yesterday’s murder. He told me about Moriarty, who was representing a villain according to John. I thought villains only existed in fairytales, but apparently not. At Speedy’s I bought them some breakfast and, as usual, Sherlock didn’t want to eat it. I had to force him, eventually he took some bites. We talked like we used to, back in the days. Our bond still remained after all those years. After breakfast he took us for a walk. He showed me the places were we used to play, which I recognized. When we entered a side way of Chagford Street I started to cry. It was the place where we found Redbeard. His dead still hurts. Sherlock hugged me while John was standing awkwardly watching us. Sherlock’s eyes were watery as well. We talked about Redbeard, cried and sometimes laughed. We shared our memories with John, who was listening carefully. He had never seen Sherlock so emotional like this. I’m neither the crying type but if it came to Redbeard I couldn’t hold myself. During the days that followed we walked around London, solved crimes, were I was getting used to and talked about our lives. I was closer then ever with Sherlock and John but complete happy stories don’t exist.


	4. What's that feeling?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Adelaide are yet a bit social awkward, something happens and Adelaide notices that something is up.  
> Something big is coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy and tag along.

'Sherlock?' I was standing in the door-post, trying to avoid another shirtless Sherlock situation, which had me thinking all night. His head appeared from the kitchen 'come in' he said. I stepped into the living room, which was a mess. 'What happened here?' I asked. He didn't answer, just smiled. A big smile, a mysterious one. The pressure in my belly returned, I just had dinner, it couldn't be hunger... I ignored it. It'll go away, eventually. 'Where's John', I was trying to walk towards the kitchen, what was difficult because stuff laid everywhere. 'Shopping, or something, with Mary for a vacation'. 'A vacation?' John didn't mentioned that to me. 'Mary wants to spend more time with him, he's gone a lot, solving crimes'. I nodded. Maybe it was for the best. I was a bit disappointed that he didn't say anything to me, we were friends right? 'Err-Sherlock, what's this?' I held up a severed body part. He continued watching through his microscope. 'Don't touch it contains a very aggressive poison mixture'. I immediately let go of it. 'I touched it' I said, panicing. He turned around, slowly. 'SHERLOCK DO SOMETHING!'. He laughed, a real, hard laugh. 'I'm joking'. 'You BLOODY BASTARD! I was scared to death! Don't you ever do that again' I was mad, and he saw it. He crabbed my hand, differently from the time we first saw each other, much more gentle. 'I'm very sorry Miss Middleton' he said, with a grimace. 'Not funny' I said. His look softened. 'Can I ask you a question?' he asked. I nodded, suspicious. 'Did you-ever... had a relationship, I mean, like John's?' he blushed. Sherlock became much more sentimental than I remembered. I shook my head. 'Sociopath you know'. He seemed relieved. 'Will you always remember that I'd never leave you?' his voice was serious, very serious. I nodded again. He looked me right in the eye. 'Can I try something?' I asked. His turn to nod.  That was all I needed, I kissed him, gently on the lips. His lips were soft, very soft. When I pulled back he looked surprised, in a split second I saw fear. I thought I did wrong. 'I-I'm sorry' faltered I. I wanted to go away, disappear, take back time. I ruined the friendship. _Why did I do this?_   'I'm sorry' I said again and turned around to make my way out of the dusty apartment. It was all to much, his smell, his presence. Tears were filling my eyes. Sherlock grabbed my upper arm and pulled me back, against his body. He kissed my forehead. 'It's fine' he whispered. 'Really, it's fine'. I heard him swallow, something was wrong, very very wrong. 

And the next day, I knew. 

 


	5. The Reichenbach Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Falling is just like flying, but then with a more permanent destination'

I saw Sherlock, standing on the rooftop. His tall figure, his long coat. I panicked, _what was I supposed to do?_ He didn't know that I stood there, on the corner on the street. I had to get to him, stop him. Awful thoughts filled my mind. _Why would he do this? Fear?_ I saw fear the other day, I thought it was because of what I did, but now it made sense. He's afraid of something, or someone. I remembered the stories about Moriarty, how he likes to play with your mind. Maybe he had to do something with all this. _Sherlock wouldn't kill himself, would he?_ I hurried inside the building, I had to stop him and fast. I ran as fast as I could. I never been in the building before, but I managed to find the stairs. My phone rang and my display showed his name.   _Should I answer? No, he would notice something is up, I'll loose time_. I took the stairs, 3 steps at the time. I wished and prayed. _How did it came this far? Why didn’t we noticed this? What was going on with Sherlock?_ In no time stood I in front of the door that led to the rooftop. I thought of the possibilities, if he saw me he might jump, I didn't want to risk that. I opened the door, slowly, with as least noise as possible. I saw a stone wall and hid myself behind it, I tried to listen what Sherlock said, he was calling John. 'The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes’ he paused, probably John spoke. He didn't create Moriarty, I knew for sure. When I looked around I saw, few inches removed from me, a dead body in a big puddle of blood. It had to be Moriarty. He didn't created him. He was real. The view made me want to puke. I had to concentrate, Sherlock's his life was at sake.  I couldn’t hear the exact words Sherlock was saying. I tried harder to listen. 'This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note? Disbelieve, _he wouldn’t would he?_ I was thinking as fast as I could, I had to act, I had to stop him! 'Goodbye John’. I screamed. 'NO SHERLOCK NO!’. I sprinted, I ran, I never ran so fast before. He was slowly disappearing from view,  but I managed to grab his coat. I tried to hold  on, but he was way to heavy, I lost grip. My body tilted and I saw the street which was filling with people, I couldn't see their faces, most of them had their hands on their mouths. Shocked, just like me. It had to be at least a 40 feet drop and we were falling, I heard the wind rushing through my ears. It indeed felt like flying. Like a free bird. I had no fear, my dead seemed established, there was no reason to worry anymore. At least I died with someone I loved. We were approaching the street, I heard John screaming our names. Sherlock was trying to say something but before he could, we smashed on the ground. I felt pain, but only for a couple of seconds, the world faded away. It felt peacefully. Goodbye my love, goodbye my friend. I’ll see you in heaven.

John cried and made his way through the crowd. Their body’s looked like leaven cocoons. He kneeled down and took their hands. 'Please, don't be dead, please' he cried. People were filling the streets, some cried, some only looked shocked. Paramedics tried to lead John away, so they could take the body's. He tried to stay were he was, he wouldn't leave his friends. Two big man grabbed his shoulders. 'We've to take them to the hospital' one of them said. 'They are my friends, I want to go with them'. The bold man who was holding John's  other shoulder shook led him away while saying; 'I'm sorry, family only'. The body's disappeared in the ambulance, leaving two big puddles of blood on the street. Sherlock's blue scarf, covered in blood, lay on the pavement. John reached for it and stuffed it in his pocket while whispering; 'Don't be dead, one more miracle. Both of you'. 

_I’m sorry John, I’m sorry Sherlock._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT the end :)


	6. Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adelaide suffers from serious brain damage.  
> Will she ever remember her love for Sherlock?

I never believed in an afterlife. I thought, when you die, everything just turns white. No feelings, no thought. Just silence. 

I saw the white light indeed. But only for a couple of seconds. My view returned. I looked at the white ceiling, it looked familiar. I tried to move, but my body didn't react. I was trapped inside my motionless body. _How did I get here?_

Hospital

I'm in a hospital.  I blinked, multiple times. I tried to move my head, and succeed. In a chair next to the door sat a pale, tall man with black curls. I didn't know him, but he looked familiar somehow. His eyes were closed, he was sleeping. I tried to speak but the only sound that came out of my mouth was a deep mumble, enough to make him awake. He opened his eyes, slowly, he gaped and stretch his muscles. He rubbed his eyes and finally looked at me. When he saw that I was looking he jumped off his chair, clearly awake. 'Adelaide?'. He looked tired and I thought he was going to cry. He kneeled down, only a few inches removed from my face and smiled. He kissed my forehead. I didn't know this man. _What was going on? Why was I laying in the hospital?_ I tried to talk again, 'Who-are-you?' it took me some time to form the words, but he understood. He frowned and looked sad. 'You don't remember me?' he asked, I heard pain in his voice. I shook my head, carefully. It hurts. Another man entered the room, he was small and had grey hair. He looked at us and he smiled 'Is she okay?'. The man with the black curls shook his head. 'She doesn't remember'. _What don't I remember? What happened and who are those man?_   The black curl man returned to me and said; 'I'm Sherlock Holmes, your friend. We were friends since we were little. Redbeard'. He paused to see if I responded, I didn't. 'And this is John Watson, also your friend. Married to Mary Watson you met her 2 weeks ago'. I still didn't respond. I couldn't remember a thing. The doctor entered the room. He didn't say a thing and started to examine my body. He looked worried. 'She suffers from serious brain damage. The change of full recovery is 7%. Try to give her as much rest as possible, it stimulates the proces. It's a miracle that she survived. I'll get Dr. Hemmaton she's a brain damage expert' he said as least words as possible, and disappeared. The two man looked at each other. The man with black curls, Sherlock, cried softly and whispered 'It's all my fault'. The other man, John, tried to calm him down. 'No it's not. I'll talk to this Dr. Hemmaton, she's gonna be fine. I promise'. John made his way out the room, leaving Sherlock and me alone. I tried to move, which improved step by step. I laid on my back and breathed slowly. 'What happened?' I managed to say. I saw the man stumbling. 'You, jumped from a rooftop... to save me. I jumped and you crabbed my coat which made you fall with me'. I was confused. He looked perfectly fine, not a scratch. 'How..you..okay?' talking hurts. He swallowed. 'It was, it was a trick. You wasn't supposed to 'save' me...' paused. Tears ran down his face. 'I'm so sorry, I caused all this'. I figured I must have loved this man, why would I offer my life for him otherwise? 'No, it's not' said I. Which made him cry even harder. John and Dr. Hemmaton entered the room. She also did some examination on my body. 'I see' she said, after all kind of tests. She turned to Sherlock and  John and said; 'You have to mention strong events in her life, that stimulates her brain process. Big moments, strong feelings everything in that sort'. John and Sherlock nodded. 'There's a short change of fully recovery, keep that in mind'. They nodded again. 'She has to stay for 3 more days, just to be sure that her health is steady'. They nodded again. 'I've more patients to visit, if you have questions you can always call me' she gave them her card. 'Thank you' John said. Sherlock took place next to my bed, holding my hand. Wiping the tears out of his eyes with the other one. 'Do you remember Redbeard?' he asked. I shook my head. 'He was our dog, back in the days. We found him between the bins, we nursed him. He loved you, I think he loved you more than he loved me' he smiled, but his eyes were watery again. 'We walked with him, every day, we discovered the London streets with him. When he died, you moved to Dublin'. I didn't remember, so I remained silence. He mentioned more things about my life and kept asking if I remembered. 'Sherlock, she has serious brain damage, she'll not remember' said John, eventually. Sherlock nodded 'I just want that she remembers something, anything'. They were nice, those man. From what Sherlock told me we were very close. He even mentioned a kiss, but he didn't want to say much about it. I guess it was too painful. John told me some stories mainly about us, but also about himself. 

The following days some people came to visit. I didn't recognizes any of them. They all told their name and talked about themselves and what our bond was like. Mycroft, Sherlock his brother, said I was a brave woman for trying to save him. He was somehow involved in the whole 'plan' and said he was terrified when he saw me jump. Lestarde, asked me to never do an exploit again if it came to Sherlock. Molly kept on talking about Sherlock and me as a couple, and how 'cute' we looked. Anderson just talked about dumb things and Mrs Hudson kept saying 'Oh dear, oh dear'. They all seamed very nice, but none of it helped.

My memories were gone, all of them. 

 


	7. Hold on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love [luhv]   
> noun  
> 1.a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.  
> 2.a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.  
> 3.sexual passion or desire.  
> 4.a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart.  
> v. loved, lov·ing, loves

_Let me hold you, for the last time_

_It's the last chance to feel again_

 

After 3 days full of visits, talks and crying people, I was finally released from the hospital. Sherlock and John took me to their apartment, there was still a room left; 221C. They fixed it up so I'd have nice temporarily home, they suspected that I didn't want to live with them anymore but they told me that I could stay as long as I want. Normal life came back. They started solving crimes, I didn't tag along. I used the time to try to remember. I wanted to remember. I wanted to know how I felt. All my emotions seemed unreal. I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know how to act. John took me to places in London where I grew up. Nothing helped.Sherlock took his distance from me, he couldn't bare to see me struggle. They were slowly giving up on me. I spent my evenings crying myself to sleep, mostly of fear. The fear to never have a memory again. I felt so lonely. The winter started, and as usual I laid in my bed, alone. It was cold, and I felt lonelier than ever. I got out of my bedroom and walked to 221B, which was upstairs. Sherlock sat on the couch, alone as well. John didn't live here anymore, he lives with Mary but when they had a fight he stayed for a while in his old apartment. Those days were nice, just the three of us. I sat down next to him, in my long, old pajama shirt. I wanted to say something but I started to cry, I curled up against his chest. He was surprised by my appearance and he awkwardly folded his hands around me. He held me, and let me cry as long as I wanted to. I thought I'd never stop. When I finally did, I at him. I could see the guilt in his eyes. He still blames himself for what happened. 'Sherlock' I whispered. His eyebrows raised. I had this question for weeks. I wasn't sure of my feelings but it seemed right. It seemed like the only thing that mattered.

'Kiss me?'. He did, instantly. Gently and soft, perfect. It felt magical. My stomach tickled and it seemed that in my head a record started to play. I saw myself and Sherlock running in the London streets, I saw Redbeard and how he ran off, I saw Dublin, I saw the lonely nights. I saw us crying, I saw myself standing for the apartment of 221B, knocking on the door, seeing Sherlock for the first time in forever, me kissing him, standing on a rooftop, I saw the dead body of Moriarty, I saw the street approaching while we were falling. I saw everything, every memory, it came back, in pieces but it came. Some parts remained black. I kept kissing him, afraid to break the magical spell and let it all fade away again. He moaned. I smelled him, he smelt perfect. He was perfect. It all was perfect. We stopped when our lips got sore, I didn't want to, but we had to. He stared, blushing, smiling. I blushed as well and grabbed his hand, searching for words. 'I remember' said I. His eyes became big; 'Everything?'. I shook my head 'I remember you' -I paused- 'and John, Redbeard. Pieces, but it's a beginning'. He nodded, his curls danced while he did. 'I love you Sherlock' said I, as soft as possible but he heard. He hugged me and whispered 'I thought I lost you' the pain in his voice gave me chills. 'You didn't, you never did'. His muscles wrenched, he tried not to cry, just like me. Two sociopaths, hugging, kissing, loving. 

It seemed perfect, all of it. I wanted to stay in this moment, forever. 

I was shaking, it was cold. Sherlock noticed. 'Come' he led me to his bedroom where he tucked me in. 'I'll be back in a minute' he disappeared in the bathroom. His blankets were soft and warm, they smelled like him. I pulled them all over me, till my chin. I was tired, really tired. This will be my first not -lonely, not crying evening. I smiled. I loved this consulting detective so much, it almost hurt. He came out of the bathroom with his pajama trousers on, just like the day he asked me to come to his apartment. The second day that I met him again. He laid down next to me, pulling me against him. Holding me. I felt his heartbeat, I heard his breath. And then, I drifted of to sleep. All I could think of was his presence. 

We felt infinite. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like it so far :)


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